


C is for Chantry

by chileancarmenere



Series: Alistair Alphabet [3]
Category: Dragon Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-22
Updated: 2012-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 23:20:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chileancarmenere/pseuds/chileancarmenere





	C is for Chantry

Some of the templars are very religious. They froth at the mouth - quite literally - with religious fervor. Every second sentence mentions Andraste and the Maker and the terrible punishments he inflicts on those who do bad things, like stay up past their bedtime.

Some templars barely bother paying lip service to Andrasteism. Alistair feels uncomfortable around these ones, even more so than the devout ones, because these templars are only here so they can exert power over others. They derive pleasure from oppressing the mages; seeing the position of templar not as a calling but as an opportunity to inflict pain, and he avoids them when he can.

Then there’s Davy, who is thrown out one day for ‘sacrilegious conduct.’ No one official actually mentions _what_ the sacrilegious conduct was, but everyone knows that Davy was too drunk one evening and…fondled up the statue of Andraste in the courtyard.

He also made lewd remarks about her bosom.

While it was funny at the time, Alistair realizes now that Davy has nothing left. He has no money, no prospects. He’ll have to go back to thieving, or if he’s lucky, he might be able to snag odd jobs as a mercenary. And even though Davy was sacrilegious at the best of times and downright offensive at the worst, Alistair can’t help but feel bad for him. Davy might have said nasty things that Alistair wouldn’t repeat (though they involved the words ‘Maker’ and ‘cuckold’) but one day when he found Alistair crying after the arms master had beaten him, he stole him a sugar bun to cheer him up and never made fun of him for his tears.

It doesn’t seem fair to him that Davy will never be able to find honest work again. It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing that Andraste would have done.

The Chantry itself dominates the compound. Whereas the rest of the buildings are built out of dull clay bricks, it is formed of white marble that must have cost a fortune. When the light strikes it just so at sunset, the high arching windows refract it into a million colors that paint the white walls pink and red and gold and orange. It is at sunset that Alistair quietly sneaks into the Chantry. It’s silent and dusty inside, and it might have felt oppressive to others, but it is at this hour that Alistair can find faith.

He kneels in front of the golden altar, feeling the cold of the floor through his thin wool breeches. Instead of folding his hands in front of him, gabbling a hasty prayer and then leaving, he sits back on his heels and _thinks_. He thinks of Davy’s kindness to him, and of his training and the expectations of him, and of his long-forgotten hopes for something more. He wonders if the Maker will ever forgive them for what they do to each other in His name, of what they do to irreverent boys and mages. And if truth be told, he berates himself, because he’s not brave enough to stand up to the elders of the Chantry for a friend that he’s now lost. All that he can do, or perhaps all that he is willing to do, is come and leave his troubles at the feet of a silent god.


End file.
